Catharsis
by j'adore macabre
Summary: Triggers and kinks: rape, dubious consent, mpreg, attempted abortion Also on AO3


Like train collisions, car crashes and pedestrian accidents, everything hurts. Bones shift in ways they aren't meant to shift, and muscles and ligaments feel as though they've been torn apart with bare hands. Posthumously. It feels like a graveyard robbery. He feels like Frankenstein's monster. How apropos.

Loki closes his eyes against a sharp pain that builds in his lungs, in the pit of his stomach. It's as though a heated blade is being repeatedly stuck into vulnerable organs. Slowly. He can't stand the heat pooling in the pit of his stomach. And behind closed lids are kaleidoscopes of colors that shift with waves of pain. Colors intensify, dim, transition. It makes him ill.

The god struggles to pull himself out of the crater in the marble floor-his should be grave. Trembling hands get him as far as the stairs. Those four short stairs might as well have been one of Asgard towers. But the need to keep moving was intensifying. Though he crawled to escape the pain, it intensified tenfold with every inch travelled.

The soft clearing of a throat cuts through the rush of blood in his ears and gives Loki pause. A heavy sigh passes quietly from between his lips before he pours a massive amount of energy into the simple action of sitting up. The blurred outlines of the Avengers swim before his eyes and he manages to focus on the reds and golds of the Iron Man suit, forcing the corner of his mouth into a smirk. Saliva pools beneath his tongue. He swallows hard.

"If it's all the same to you," he manages to say, "I think I'll have that drink now."

The pain in his abdomen is excruciating. It hurts to sit still, to move, to breathe, to live. But he stoutly refuses to show even the barest amount of discomfort. But thoughts are colliding together, bleeding, screaming for attention. It's like a hurricane inside his head. It's overwhelming. What he does know is that he needs to stand. Nerves are grated; he can't stand to be looked down on. With guns and arrow trained on him, Loki clenches his teeth and tries to rise.

It feels as though he's tearing open, a gaping bloody hole where organs use to be—blended. Knives are stabbing into him—crime of passion, back alley robbery. It's brutal and unbearable. Warmth spreads between his thighs, but the dark material hides it until it drips down to marble floors to stain it a dark cherry red. Loki splays long fingers over his stomach and retches violently. Knees tremble and he's collapsing as waves of searing pain radiate from his abdomen, down his spine. Bones tremble with the overwhelming intensity of it all. Broken bones merely accentuate like a macabre harmony.

There are dark spots in his memory, missing time he hasn't gotten back yet. But—he shoves the sudden invasive thought down into the deepest corner of his mind. Even still, a fear creeps up into his throat and makes him vomit harder. Loki can barely breathe.

Most of the Avengers aren't keen to touch him, but Thor's still holding on to the hazy definition of family and Tony's always been reckless. They both take a step toward the trickster but Tony's closer, extends his stride more. He ignores Clint's instinctive noise of warning and kneels, dropping his helmet to reach for Loki. The god's stopped vomiting and jerks away from the engineer, clenching his teeth against the cry of distress at the small movement as he curls into a semi-fetal position. There's no blast of magic, no scathing remark or threat from the razor sharp tongue. Thor stands beside him to look down at his brother but Loki's eyes are screwed shut as hands clench into fists. Questions spring to the tip of Thor's tongue, but he doesn't have a chance to give them life before they are all suddenly immersed in darkness. The flickering emergency light offers poor illumination.

"What the hell?" Clint murmurs as they all turn to the wall to wall windows.

The sunlight is blocked out, shattered windows covered by some _thing_. The ominous creak of compressed metal and the muffled sound of glass breaking fills air that has gone heavy with fear, air gone fifteen degrees colder. It prompts all but Tony to take a defensive stance.

Another strangled cry escapes Loki and legs buck sporadically, unaware of what the others believe to be impending danger. And at his sounds of distress, a massive vertically slit pupil fills the window space. The eyes of a snake turns is gaze to the trickster, pupil constricting as it focused.

Steve renders a quiet exclamation to God while Thor steps toward the monster as he shifts his hold on Mjolnir. The blood leeches from his knuckles with the strength of his grip. Natasha and Clint simultaneously take a breath and aim their weapons as the snake rears back its head slightly. The massive size of it makes their blood run cold and stops their breath for a moment. Slowly, it rests its jaw on the floor, ignoring the Hulk's growl of warning. And it shrinks.

Deep blue-green scales condense and transform, turning lighter and mutating into a man that stands nearly as tall as Thor. What had, just a few seconds ago, been a serpent was now a young man whose pale skin still resembled scales and bright green eyes that still held slit pupils. Despite these features, he is familiar in his lithe physique, lean face, and black hair that fell nearly to the small of his back. He stood naked on shards of glass.

Thor crosses the distance between them with his brow furrowed in anger and glass crunching beneath his feet. "Jormungandr," he said. But the young man recoiled from the hand that reached for him, hissing venomously to reveal teeth sharpened and curved. Jormungandr brushed pass the Asgardian without another glance and made his way straight to Loki who was gripping the leather straps of his armor so tightly his knuckles paled. Tight-lipped, Thor quickly bid the others to stand down. Surprisingly the Hulk obeyed though muscles tensed beneath near impenetrable skin and he rocked forward as if about to attack.

Through the almost violent concentration of sounds, bursting colors, and distress Loki felt cool hands gently touch his face. Automatically, lips turn up in a snarl and eyes fly open. Eyes near exact in color meet and Loki could immediately recognized his son no matter which form he takes. A shot of pain cuts through and threatens to drown him. "Jor—," he chokes out. He can't finish it but he knows Jormungandr will understand.

"It's not the end." The shape shifter speaks slowly as he acclimates to the human features. There is only one reason Jormungandr would be allowed to leave the depths of Earth's water and it would be Ragnorok. Ignoring Tony less than a foot from him, he brings scaled hands to the other's abdomen to hover above it. "Let me help, Father." Blue tinged light springs from his palms and transfers to the god.

Loki bites his lip hard enough to draw blood. It isn't enough to stop the muffled scream of pain. And he's on the verge of unconsciousness, but he knows with complete certainty of the life thrashing in agony inside of him.

"I need one of your healers. Help my father," Jormungandr says quietly as he turns his gaze to Stark, finally acknowledging him. "Save him. Please."

But Loki can't bear to be seen weaker than these Midgardians, weaker than Thor even. The searing pain has lessened only marginally, but he lurches to wrap his arms around his son's neck. "Stand," he orders quietly through clenched teeth. He chokes down a pathetic whimper as bolts as strong as Thor's lightning shoot down his spine down to the soles of his feet. His legs are trembling but he refuses to fall again. Loki pulls back slightly and stares at his son. There's the sound of Tony rising but he ignores the Avenger and uses his son as a focal point. A breath—deep and filling every space in his lungs. It takes a herculean effort but Loki runs. He ducks pass the others with their cries of surprise. Gunshots ring out, echoing in his ears as a dull pain hits his thigh, but the sky is so near and a there is nothing beneath his feet.

Loki lands with a sickening crunch. Bones already broken shift even more and break through skin. Blood is still warm between his thighs. It's filling his boots. Loki has to crawl on hands and knee as he drags his right leg along. Broken from the Hulk's treatment, it's shattered now.

It's a body he wants—Chitauri. More specifically, he wants one of the knives they carry at the hip. The sound of Mjolnir whirling through the air to slow Thor's decent drives Loki faster. He manages to get his hand around the handle of a blade as a hand grabs the back of his collar.

"Where do you think you're going, Reindeer Games?"

The god's vision is swimming and he doesn't know up from down. There's just the cold assurance of a blade in his hand and the knowledge that he'll win out in the end. Loki drives the dagger into the thinner leather armor on his side, clenching his teeth against the dark edges that crept into his field of vision and he is wholly dependent on Tony's grasp to keep him upright.

"That was foolish, Loki," Thor says as he takes a step toward his brother. "That was not a killing blow."

Loki can't help but laugh at that. But he's so filled with pain, so caught up in overwhelming senses, it sounds maniacal. Mania: the very word to describe events so far. His vision is dimming and its only vaguely familiar shadows that move. "Do not touch him," he hears Jormungandr snap. Fear builds in him again. He wants his son to leave, to stay as far away as possible from any Asgardians.

Tony shifts his grip on Loki to hold the god up with an arm around his waist, free hand without armor and clamping down on the knife wound.

"You will respect me," Thor growls.

"Respect you, Asgardian?" Jormungandr cries out incredulously. "You, who calls my father _Liesmith_, murderer of my brother. You, whose father rides my brother like a common beast and cast me and my siblings out of our father's reach."

"Shut up," Tony snaps. "Both of you." He doesn't look at either of them but sheds his other glove to find an erratic pulse beneath his fingertips.

Loki's choking on air, veins running black and blood painting his lips. His head drops back out of lack of strength and he can't find the resolve to push away from the engineer. The air is cool on the sweat-dampened skin, and it eases some of his discomfort. Something pulls at the corner of his mind, a vague thought. But he's drowning from the inside and can't be bothered to follow a thread.

Jormungandr takes the knife dropped amid rubble and his forked tongue goes out to taste the air. "It's poison tipped," he says as he throws the blade aside. Green eyes are wide with panic as he stares at Tony "Please," he says, an echo of his father.

Loki stiffens in Tony's arm like a board and a bruising effect shows beneath exposed pale skin. Thor moves to take his brother only to stop short as Jormungandr hisses and, almost as a reflex, takes a serpent form that takes up a good portion of the street though not nearly as massive as when he first arrived. Fangs are bared and venom drips down to burn little craters in the concrete. Thor shifts his grip on his weapon and takes a step forward. The hammers cuts up to aim for the shape shifter's chin. But Tony steps between them because Loki's trying to push away and do it himself but his leg is in veritable pieces and Stark won't loosen his grip. Loki cannot think of anything greater than the pain worth reacting to besides his son. More than sure of Thor's reflexes, Tony barely flinches as the hammer passes centimeters from his exposed face.

With the exertion of energy, the trickster goes limp and his eyes drift shut. Loki holds on to the image of his son and his heart aches in a way that has nothing to do with the poison in his veins. And he thinks that he's almost forgotten what his children look like, lost them in the anger and the despair, and here his son is, tearing fresh wounds into his soul. Whatever this child was that was growing in him, whoever fathered it, Loki did not want it. He could not bear another loss. He barely hangs on to consciousness.

"I _need _to get him to the lab," Tony says firmly as he stares at the blackening veins. He drapes the god's arm around his shoulders with his hand still firmly pressed against the knife wound. "The longer we wait—"

Back in human form, Jormungandr takes a step toward Tony. The engineer is still on edge and having Loki's son come close doesn't ease frayed nerves. He stiffens and Thor grabs Jormungandr's arm partly out of reaction to Tony.

"I do not have my father's patience. Release me," Jormungandr hisses and Thor lets him go with a small scowl. The shape shifter turns his focus to Tony. "I am merely here to ensure my father's child lives without fear of Odin's temper. I promise you do not have anything to fear from me."

The shape shifter put his hands to either side of Loki's head and his lips moved with near silent words. In the quiet, Tony could hear the faint snapping of bones as they shifted back into place, the bruising fades only slightly. Loki's breath was less harsh, less ragged. His breath came easier. Jormungandr drops his hands. "His wounds are less and the poison almost gone, but the bleeding will not stop."

Tony shifts his grip to carry Loki in his arms, leading the way through the broken glass doors of the Tower. He's certain Banner must have returned to a calmer state and the others must have shared the new information with SHIELD. The elevator opens to meet them as they draw close and the rest of the Avengers are waiting, Banner barefoot as he buttons up his shirt. Jormungandr hisses at the sight of haggard, hostile faces and tenses at Clint and Natasha's instinctive reach for their weapons. Steve merely holds up a hand for patience.

"Not now," Tony says quietly, firmly to the assassins. He turns to Bruce. "Can you help?"

"If you don't mind me at less than a hundred percent," the doctor replies. He sways slightly and looks exhausted.

Natasha's stare doesn't waver from the shape shifter as she says, "Fury wants Loki and…his _son_ taken into custody. A med team and guards are on their way."

Jormungandr bares his teeth and steps forward only to find himself staring at Thor's broad back. "I cannot let you take either of them," Thor replies as his hand flexes around the handle of the hammer. "They are Asgard's responsibility and so their custody falls to me."

"You're insane," Clint spits out from between clenched teeth. He ignores Steve's noise of warning. "You're _brother_ nearly leveled the city, body count is rising and this," he gestures to Jormungandr, "comes out of nowhere and you don't think he's going to—" He's cut off as Jormungandr in serpent form whips around Thor to snap his fangs mere centimeters from archer's face. He doesn't care that a gun is trained on his left pupil. Before even Natasha can pull the trigger, Jormungandr is inside the elevator, pushing them all out. Thor catches a surprised Banner before he can tumble to the ground. The shape shifter stares at Tony expectantly but the engineer doesn't move and he sways impatiently.

"I'm the one holding the cards here," Tony says quietly. "I need something to show some kind of trust in you."

Shifting back to a man, there's worry in green eyes. "Please," he says. "I don't care who this world is ruled by. Whether your cities fall or rise, I'm bound to stay regardless. My only care is that my father lives. If you will not help then I will take him to Hel."

"I'll help," Barton murmurs.

Before Steve can tell him to keep quiet, Loki goes rigid in Tony's arms. Teeth clench, hands turn to fist. In Loki's mind he is transported to frozen wastelands with the Other leering at him with rock walls as his backdrop.

"_Your mind may have been cleared but you will still fulfill the agreement," the Other grinds out in harsh tones. _

_Loki's mind works quickly, sure the child was part of an agreement he could not remember. He thought of who he would strike such a high bargain with, who would want an heir from him. "Our agreement is finished. The plan has failed and so this child will be terminated." Even as the words left his lips, his heart clenches in despair. But he refuses to be manipulated without creating his own terms._

_A wicked smile cut across the other's face. "You would be remiss to try. Do not think that you can escape life so easily as with poisoned knives. Carry to term and you may find yourself forgiven. If you do not then all of your children will suffer for it." _

_The trickster clenches his jaw. "Yet you would leave me to the Midgardians and Aesir despite the value of my unborn child." A smirk comes to his lips. "And what if they so happen to kill me while my magic is limited?"_

_The Other sneers back. "They would find it very hard considering your life is tied to Thanos'. We will come for you when necessary, Princeling."_

_Loki hides the simmering rage with a constant smirk, his mind thinking of the thousands of scenarios possible should he defy Thanos. Darkness descends for a brief second before the trickster is staring up at brown eyes tinged with worry and surprise._

Loki watches Tony blink almost owlishly and the last few moments come back to him in rush of sounds and smells. On near instinct, Loki's elbow jerks up, catching the engineer's nose. Multiple actions happen simultaneously. A sickening crunch sounds, Tony drops Loki, Natasha and Clint train their weapons. The trickster lands on a knee and rolls to gain distance as a gunshot rings out and the air rushes from his lungs in a strangled exhale.

Jormungandr rushes to his father, tackling him before Natasha can fire again and pinning him down by the wrists. More sure of his body and less apt to be restrained, Loki breaks free easily. But he is weakened and every movement feels like moving through water, sending radiating pain through his joints. He does not resist when he is pinned down again.

"Just how long do you think you can keep this form?" Loki asks with mild curiosity, propping himself up on an elbow when Jormungandr lets him go. He's trying to push the pain in to the back of his mind. But ragged pants escape him, chest heaving as he struggles for air. He catches Thor's hard stare and gives him a mocking smile. "Go on then, Thor. Tell me what a whore you think I've been." A hand is splayed out on the floor to keep him steady, blood muddying the brisk dust.

"It's true then," Thor replies as his hand clenches tighter around Mjolnir. "You would never bear another child unless you wanted it. Who is the father?" He takes a step forward with a scowl and gestures to the ruin outside with the hammer when Loki shrugs with feigned disinterest. "Did he put you to this? You've brought yourself this low, and for what? What did he promise you?"

Loki's face twist and contorts into a mask of uncontrollable rage and his eyes are almost feverishly bright. Before he can speak a word, Jormungandr has his hand dangerously close to Thor's throat in the space of a second, stopping short at a Loki's strangled cry of command.

"Do not speak on things you do not know," the shape shifter says with dangerous quiet before Steve steps between them.

The Avenger holds up his hands calmly. "Let's all stay calm for a minute. You need your father to get medical attention, Doctor Banner can do that."

"And what makes you believe I would take your help?" Loki grits through clenched teeth as he struggles to get on to a knee. Without a word, Jormungandr takes his father by the collar of his armor to drag him some distance from the Avengers. Loki gives a hollow laugh as he's dragged across the floor and leaves a faint blood smear in his wake. He stands only because he is held up by the breastplate, nose to nose with his son and staring at slit pupils.

"If you would leave your stubbornness and pride aside they could help you. _Please_." Jormungandr's eyes shift, boring deep down in Loki's soul. "I ask nothing more from you."

Loki sighs and a hand goes to rest against his son's neck. "I will not lie to you. Ask me nothing and I will cooperate with the midgardians. But promise me you will leave and find someplace safe."

"Father—"

"Promise me." Loki's grip grows firm. "You are the most vulnerable of my children. I cannot worry over you and remove myself from the mess I've made."

"I know you were not yourself," Jormungandr says almost desperately. "If you would only admit it even to Thor—"

"No, he is a fool who would get himself killed for the sake of wounded pride." Loki grips the other's arm as tight as he can in his weakened state. "I promise you, Odin taking this child is the last thing I fear." He pauses at the sound of tires rolling to a stop outside. "Leave now."

"For this one time, leave your stubbornness and pride. Give us the truth, let them help, and I promise I will leave," Jormungandr says pleadingly.

Loki's eyes dart to the Avenger's, to Thor. They are all well within earshot and he is not fond of the idea of being made weak before them. But the sound of heavy boot heels comes closer and it sets his teeth on edge. He shuts his eyes against the memories that clamor for his attention, memories that crawl through his defenses like maggots, recollections of too rough hands and teeth that break skin.

"Yes," Loki shouts as if the word were too hurtful to be contained in a mere breath. Eyes fly open to see that Thor and Stark had drawn closer, maybe afraid he would disappear or that he had fallen unconscious again. With mouth screwed in a scowl of disgust, Loki fixes his eyes on his son and takes a sharp breath.

"I did," the trickster says quietly. "I traded myself again. An exchange was offered—an escape from that rock, out of the dark." A sudden tremor ran up his spine at the memories that came, his breath coming so hard through clenched teeth that spit flecked the corners of his mouth. "All I needed was to produce an heir for him, with him. And I said yes because he was by far the gentlest. I let him in, let him twist my mind because it was a kindness." He stops as guards flood the room with weapons trained on him and his son. "You wanted truth and I gave it."

"His name." Jormungandr trembles with a quiet rage, his hands gripping his father armor so hard the metal bends. "I heard whispers through Yggdrasil but only fragments of things, never a name. Who did this to you?" He trembles harder when Loki firmly shakes his head.

Tony barely has time to process before Thor's grabbing his arm and the massive coils of a snake knock them all back. Jormungandr had returned to his natural state, coiling around Loki like a wall of flesh and bone with scales hard as diamonds. The SHIELD agents shot off a few rounds, but it did nothing more than irritate. Natasha's voice sounds over the cracking of the walls telling them to stand down. Tony can see the rest of the Avengers squeeze between the coils and the wall to reach them, Bruce dusting rubble from his hair.

"How long do you think he's going to stay like that?" Clint asks wearily.

Natasha replies, "More importantly, what do we do after?"

"It does not matter," Thor says as he takes a step forward. "My brother still needs a healer." He shouts Jormungandr's name but it does not cause a reaction except for the shape shifter to constrict slightly.

Without bothering to process a thought, Tony strips the rest of his armor. He almost feels naked without it. But he takes a breath and shoves himself between hundreds of pounds of muscle, ignores the sharp pain of his broken nose and hopes the shape shifter will be kind enough not to crush him. The weight lifts marginally so he can breathe easily. He grabs scales for purchase and finds them to be hard as stone and nearly as cold as ice. Fingers grow numb but Stark pulls himself along until his hands reach air and he can hear quiet voices.

"_Let me tell you about the sea._" It sounds like Jormungandr's voice but it sounds as if it echoes through Tony's mind rather than through the ear.

"Do not think that pretty words can make me stay," Loki replies, his voice a near whisper and trembling. It sounds like a familiar exchange between them.

Stark tumbles from beneath the coils with a soft grunt as he hits the ground. The Arc Reactor lends a dim glow to the small space. Loki is propped up with legs outstretched and blood seeping slowly through his trousers to stain the floor. He looks paler and his eyes are dim as they stare at Tony for a long moment of silence.

"You must be a truly reckless mortal to come where monsters are," the god murmurs almost in a thought.

"I guess we have different definitions for that word." Tony looks up and Jormungandr's slit pupil stares down at him. He looks back at Loki. "We need to get you medical care."

Loki's head lolled to the side, the ghost of a smirk on his lips. "_We_. Yes, I did promise to be complacent, didn't I?" A pause. "Come here, Stark."

Tony hesitates for a second but shifts closer, jerking back when Loki lifts his hand and a golden light glows dimly in his palm.

"I made a promise to my son and I will not break it," the god says as he stares at Tony. "I do not intend to harm you." He touches Tony's nose gently and cartilage and bone mend beneath his hand. As his hand falls away, Loki murmurs, "Jormungandr, keep your promise."

The shape shifter hesitantly unwound himself. Tony went to support the trickster, holding him close to instinctively cover the god as shots rang out and Jormungandr lashed out at the other agents. Fangs snap within centimeters of them, but Loki murmurs words in a language that Tony doesn't understand, breath cool on the engineer's ear. The shape shifter stops but strikes the wall in a final act of anger, shards of concrete bouncing off of Stark's back. But it gets eerily quiet and Tony looks up to watch the serpent fade around the edge before he disappears.

"Get off of me, Stark," Loki demands out in a strangled breath with an inadvertent hint of a plea. He can't stand to be touched and to be brought so low again. The trickster squeezes his eyes closed and presses him hands to his abdomen as he's lifted in Tony's arms. Lips are pressed in a thin line and his body is exhausted. Loki lets himself drift into oblivion.


End file.
